still as good and heartbreaking as i remember

“Thought that I was dreamin’
When you said you loved me.
Yes, it started from nothing.
Had no chance to prepare,
I couldn’t see you coming.
And it started from nothing
Oh I could hate you now,
It’s quite alright to hate you now.
But we both know that deep down,
The feeling still deep down, is good.
You broke my heart last week.
I’ll probably feel better.
But if we can still remember how you’d hold me,
As you’re screaming my name,
The feeling deep down is good.
It’s all good, all good, all good…
It’s all good, all good ….”

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Castle falls asleep on Beckett's chest.

Post 4x04, Kick The Ballistics.


She hated for him to see her broken, raw and trembling and overwhelmed with inner demons, but part of her had been grateful for the one time she had let him. In her own apartment, during an unexpected panic attack a couple of weeks ago, he had touched the shaking bone of her shoulder, murmured comforting words, relatable words.

I know, Kate, I know. I have them too.

She hadn’t necessarily believed that, couldn’t picture Rick Castle enduring the torturous episode of a panic attack, but he hadn’t been lying to her. 

The return of Jerry Tyson had rattled him, she knew that, and ever since the heartbreak she had caused him throughout the summer, their partnership had been a bit more tentative. Her shooting, those words she isn’t supposed to remember, still looming over them, she knew that too. Castle was under a lot of stress, probably dealing with a good dose of emotional turmoil, but that knowledge hadn’t prepared her for his mother to call her in quiet distress, worried over her son and unsure of what else to do.

“This has happened before, once not long after the divorce with Meredith, when he was under so much pressure,” Martha had babbled, her voice a contradiction of calm and factual, frantic and fearful. “And I know he doesn’t like for anyone to see him like this. But I could hear him when I went to let him know I was leaving and he just sounded so - so grief stricken, and I just can’t not-”

“I’m on my way,” Kate had promised his mother, already changing directions, turning away from the entrance of the subway that would take her home and towards the sidewalk instead, hailing a cab that would get her to his loft quicker. “Just ten minutes, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, darling.”

Martha had stuck true to her word and after impatiently riding the elevator to the top floor of his building, Kate is able to stride inside the loft, take the path to his office without a second thought. Her fingers pause over the handle to his bedroom door, though, apprehension flaring in her stomach. She’s never been inside his bedroom and it isn’t her right to just barge in.

“I’ll be out in just a moment, Mother,” he calls out when she knocks, and he’s a skilled actor, talented in the roles he plays for those he doesn’t allow inside, but she can still hear the slight quiver in his voice. 

“Not your mom, Castle,” she calls back, hearing nothing but silence on the other side of the door for a split second before his footsteps rush towards her. 

The door swings open and despite the smile he musters for her, she can see the cracks in his exterior. 

“Beckett, to what do I owe the pleasure of an unexpected visit?” he quips. “And how did you get in here?”

“Your mom let me in while she was on her way out.” Technically, it was true. “I thought after everything with this case and 3XK… I thought you could use some company.”

His eyes ripple with surprised delight, gentle appreciation, and she wishes she would have thought to come to him sooner, to care enough to check on him without his mother having to inform her of his current state. 

“I - that’d be great. Have you eaten?”

“No,” she admits, biting her bottom lip when Castle steps out of his office, his hand rising to glance the small of her back before it quickly falls away. She misses the warmth of his palm without even having the chance to experience it. “Have you?”

“I was just about to,” he lies, the grin stretched across his lips charming but strained, enough for her to see through.

She doesn’t comment on it, doesn’t try to bring up what she knows is bothering him, but she does stick close to his side in the kitchen, helping him heat up leftover pasta that smells divine despite its time in the fridge. She sits beside him on the couch while they eat, engages in the comfortable small talk, the silence that falls between bites yet never becomes awkward. Not with him.

“How’re you holding up?” Kate finally asks after he’s set his bowl down on the coffee table in front of them, taken the last sip of the red wine he had poured in matching glasses for them. She still nurses hers between her palms.

Castle tilts his head at her in feigned confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Rick,” she murmurs, watching him physically deflate, sighing out in defeat as his shoulders slump, his lips falling into a frown and his eyes going dull, and she stretches forward to deposit her wine glass on the table beside his.

“I’m okay,” he states with a shrug. “Not even sure why it bothers me so much. Ryan is the one who went through hell during this case.”

“What Tyson did to you both was equally traumatizing-“

“Trauma?” Castle scoffs, shaking his head at her. “I didn’t - there’s no trauma, Kate. I’m fine. I just - I guess this case had me afraid that Tyson would step up his game, come after us, people I care about.”

“We never would have let him come after Martha or Alexis,” she swears to him, hoping the knowledge that he had an entire precinct ready to protect his family if need be would provide him with comfort, but she watches his lips purse instead.

“And you?”

Kate shifts on the sofa to face him, her brow creasing with confusion. “Me?”

Castle scrapes a hand through his hair and averts his eyes, looks as if he’s about to rise, take a page from her book and make a run for it, so she drapes her hand atop his knee, effectively stays him.

“I can’t protect you,” he gets out without meeting her eyes. “Couldn’t protect you. I wouldn’t have been able to stop Tyson if he had-“

“Castle, stop,” she breathes, her fingers clenching hard over the bone of his knee.

“And I know you don’t need my protection, but I can’t - God, I can’t lose you again, Beckett,” he confesses, his head in his hands and his body curling in on itself, protecting himself. From her. “Not like that.”

“You’re not,” Kate chokes out, the terrible grief clogging her throat, knotting in her chest beneath the bullet scar that consumes her sternum, consumes everything.

She’s close enough to drop her forehead to the rounded bone of his shoulder, the scent of his aftershave drifting up to greet her, embrace her, and she inhales a deep breath of it, of him, and swallows down her own anguish, focuses on Castle’s.

His spine is stiff, his entire frame rigid beneath the foreign proximity she offers, and Kate reaches for one of the hands fisted in his hair. He lets her have it without resistance, his head turning towards her to watch as she cradles his fingers in her palm, strokes her thumb along his knuckles.

“You’re not,” she repeats, feeling the intensity of his gaze resting on her, searing through her. “I’m still here, Castle,” she whispers, drawing his palm to her chest, up to her heart.

The harsh intake of his breath shudders through them both, but he allows her to keep his hand flat against her sternum, her heart galloping to meet his palm, crashing against the cage of her ribs to feel the warmth of his skin seeping through her shirt.

She couldn’t return his confessions of love, not yet, not with words, but she could offer him this - reassurance in whatever form he needed. She could let him hold onto her heart before she gave it over completely.

“Kate,” he whispers back, but she doesn’t answer, her forehead still sealed to his shoulder, a new favorite place of rest, one where she’s content to remain.

And that’s what they do for a long while - remain. His hand cradled to her chest, her forehead to his shoulder, and his body beginning to lean into hers as time passes.

“Don’t go,” Castle sighs out, his hand going slack beneath hers, and she controls the descent of his fist to her side before she attempts to rise from the sofa. “Beckett-“

“Shh, let’s get you to bed, Castle,” she murmurs, squeezing his bicep before she stands, tugs him up with her. “I’ll stay a little while longer.”

That earns a surprised quirk of an eyebrow despite his drowsy state, the exhaustion from the panic attack that had caused his mother to dial her number, from the pasta and the wine that has even her eyes feeling heavy, from the thought of losing her - all of it overtaking.

He shuffles towards his bedroom with her at his side, his warmth like a magnet she fails to stray from, her body easing onto the edge of his bed even as he plops down. Her mind is in turmoil, red flags and alarm bells plaguing every inch of her skull, but her heart beats hard and fervent behind the walls that bind it, keep it from the man lying next to her on the bed.

“You really don’t have to stay,” he mumbles around a yawn, offering her a reassuring smile, the one he often uses to comfort her, calm her, and they may still be waiting, but that doesn’t mean she can’t stick around, take care of him a little longer, whether he needs her or not. God knows he would do the same for her without hesitation.

“Just for a few minutes,” she replies, easing down onto her side, facing him, and holding her breath as he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Kate,” he murmurs, his fingers traveling to stroke up and down her spine, eliciting shivers and streaks of heat all at once, sending her eyes fluttering shut. “Thank you.”

They peel open at that.

“Always,” she returns, watching the blue of his eyes burn so brightly in the darkness of his bedroom before his lashes fall shut to hide the need she recognizes coming to life.

She falls asleep mere moments after she watches his eyes close for a final time, after she trains the rise and fall of her chest to the steady rhythm of his breathing beside her. 


The next time Kate wakes, it’s late in the night and her eyes are thick with sleep, her chest heavy with the weight atop the frame of her ribs, the press of his cheek to her sternum, his ear at her heart. It should hurt, her muddled brain muses, the pressure atop her gunshot wound, but the seal of his cheek to her sternum does the opposite. 

He anchors her.

It should terrify her too, but she blinks through the grit of her slumber to catch a glimpse of his face, slack and at peace, innocent and untouched by the grief she had passed onto him. She’ll dislodge him before morning, probably be out of his loft before he even awakens, but for now, Kate combs her fingers through his hair, sighs quietly when he tightens the arm around her waist and nuzzles gently, his nose grazing her collarbone.

This is what she’s working so hard for, trying to be better for, what they’re both waiting for. But for tonight, she erases her shooting from her mind, dispels thoughts of Jerry Tyson and the ache in Castle’s eyes when he’d said he couldn’t protect her, and gives him the beat of her heart, the drum of reassurance beneath his ear. For tonight, she allows them both a much needed rest.

I remember first seeing this scene it was unbelievably shocking, heartbreaking, and yet eerily beautiful. Finally getting a good look at Kanan’s damaged eyes and his scar after months of speculation.

And I can’t help but wonder what it was like for Hera to first remove the bandages and see what was underneath. That same shock and heartbreak, but filled with an unconditional love that none of us can truly comprehend. How she still finds him just as beautiful, and that there was never any doubt about it. Hera describing to him how his eyes and scar look, in the most genuinely loving & affectionate way. Hera tenderly kissing each scarred eyelid. Hera telling Kanan over and over again how much she loves him…

People tend to think that the whole heartbreak thing is the staying in our bedrooms crying our eyes out, eating ice cream and listening to sad songs. But that wasn’t it for me. For me, it was the whole listening to our favourite songs, remembering all the good memories while I sat and stared at this plain white wall where our pictures use to be.
—  It still hurts, so fucking much.

Now that’s a challenge!!

Had to re-read LSOTW just so I could remember everyone but then I realized yet again why this comic will always by my favorite. Everything is just as heartbreaking as the first time, but such a great story!

I was reading through and just did a redraw of this panel(I don’t know why but I just liked it haha)

Man, I gotta do a LSOTW tribute or something, it really does deserve one!

I can still remember those moments. I still have flashes of them all the time. Laughing. Smiling. Just talking. The things you told me. The things you showed me. The moments I’ve gotten lost in. I can still close my eyes and see every moment we shared. You, your head turned around to look at me. Me, looking at you and hanging on to every word you say. Us, just too normal good friends. It’s just beautiful. And I miss it. A lot.
—  remember? // Krystal

Gah! That row James and Robbie have in the street during the Gay Pride festival in the ‘Lewis’ episode ‘Life Born of Fire’. I still remember watching it the first time it aired, something like nine years ago now, and the effect it had on me then (I don’t think I’d realised how invested I was in their relationship until it faced its first serious test) and it still gets me every damn time! I know I’m biased, but Laurence Fox is just so damn good in that episode. I don’t think it matters if you ship them romantically, as best buds/bros or pseudo father and son, that scene is bloody heartbreaking. Sob. 😭😭😭

there was much i had read of first love, of the deepest fall, of how you never really get over that original sunrise
but i believe in second love, in third love, in as many loves as it takes until my heart settles on the right space
it is hard at first, a song you used to know the steps to but now makes you remember all the times you tripped up. you are shy and your palms are rough. it is hard and the back of your tongue holds all the times you weren’t good enough.
but love in the face of heartbreak is strong, a building that knows falling and still stands up. it is slower and cleaner and sometimes it gets mistaken for less passionate: but how much it must take to look heartbreak in the face and still jump anyway. it might not be volcanoes and wildfires and summer storms.
but instead it is the sure fireplace waiting to keep you warm. a safety, a sureness, instead of a rush to the end. there is nothing wrong with the river of first love.
but sometimes you need a mountain.
—  Try again // r.i.d

I thought I was enough.
I gave you all I had, every inch of myself, my energy, my being. 
But you still gave me up. 

And at night I lay awake, even after all these months, wondering why I wasn’t good enough for you. 
Why I wasn’t worth it.
Why my all wouldn’t be all you needed. 

And I think back to the night before I left. 
I lied in your bed, listening to the same song on repeat. Trying to drown out the pain and the heartbreak while you were in your living room watching TV and laughing like you didn’t have a care in the world.

I remember being so angry with you because you had clearly made this decision long ago, but hadn’t the decency to tell me sooner. Waited for me to waste so much more of my time and energy. I hated you for that.

I remember the week I came back home. The silence was deafening and the pain in my chest consumed me every single day.

But you were just fine and you posted a snapchat story that showed you in bed with someone else. Maybe to spite me. Maybe because you had no soul.  

Or maybe

Maybe because you were just as hurt and you needed to erase me and every memory of me by replacing me with someone else.  

No. That can’t be right. 

Why didn’t he want me?? 

Why didn’t he want me 

Why wasn’t I enough

—  A.J.

some nights I wish I was getting drunk off the taste of your lips, other nights I crave finishing off a bottle until you’re out of my mind.

some nights I fall asleep and can still feel your arms around me, other nights I go so numb I don’t remember how to feel at all.

some nights I stay home like a good girl for you, other nights I go out and forget your name and face.

some nights I love you, other nights I realize how much better off I am without you.

—  2 AM Thoughts (cautiously-audacious)
When I look at the ocean. The only thing I see is you. I see your blue eyes as they shine with tears and I see how you look so blue all the time. I wish I never saw you looking at me when you were drowning to the depths of the sea. It killed me inside and it still makes me break a little more when I remember the times when we were good. The times where we didn’t fall for the beauty of the sea. But you did, you fell and kept on falling thinking that the water would hold you forever in peace. I thought I could have been the one to hold you forever, but I guess I was wrong.

Yo…. let me tell you, seeing posts on my dash about heartbreak and not being able to immediately relate is the best feeling in the world!!! Like wow it feels really good to only distantly remember it. We all go through it at one point or another and for a while I could like viscerally relate to so many songs and movies? Which was emotional lmao but also not something that was so bad. It felt like a lot of people understood. And now I can still be like “yup okay, I vaguely remember that and I’m sorry you’re going through that” when I see people post about it on my dash. It’s nice. Growth is good, you’ll get over whatever you feel sad about soon enough, I promise ✨✨

I didn’t want to remember anymore. I didn’t miss him, I didn’t miss the memories. The good memories don’t seem to matter as much when someone leaves you with terrible ones. When someone hurts you, you cling to the memories when they still loved you and you were still important to them, you try not to remember the way they left you, you try to forget so you don’t have to cope with the pain. I didn’t care about our good memories anymore, those were in the past, they didn’t matter anymore, it was no use clinging to a memory with someone who doesn’t give a fuck about you now. I didn’t want to remember the bad memories, but those were harder to forget. Things associated with pain and heartbreak seem to stick. I didn’t want to remember, but it seems nearly impossible to forget.
I'm Sorry Part 5

~~Lynn’s POV~~

This party is so lit, I’m high as hell, drunk as hell, and still heartbroken as fuck. I went up to my room and went into my closet and grabbed my special box. I opened it and it was full of marijuana, little packets of cocaine, and heroine.

I grabbed a packet of cocaine and put it on the table and started putting it in little amounts, I rolled up a piece of paper and started snorting it. After I was done I felt good but then I remembered that.. I’m all alone. Nobody loves me.

All of a sudden I started sobbing. Everybody left me, my brother that I loved so much hates me but he was right, It’s my fault my parents died. No matter how many times my grandparents and Justin told me it wasn’t, I always knew it was my fault. It should of been me in that accident, not them.

I got up and went to my mini refrigerator and grabbed two beers and sat back down. I stared at the wall with millions of thoughts racing through my mind, and they weren’t good ones. As I finished the first beer I slammed it to the wall with anger.

After awhile I finished my beer and thought to finish the little bit of white substance I had on the small table. So I grabbed the rolled up paper and started snorting the rest but halfway of snorting it the door opened and a guy walked in..

~~Justin’s POV~~

Me and Lila were on our way to a party, Lila says that her friend Alex and her roommates have the best parties. I just wanted to get drunk af, as we entered the house I knew this party was gonna be lit.

I went directly to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Once I finished it I went for the second one and grabbed Lila and led her to where everyone was dancing.

After awhile of dancing and drinking 3 beers I had an urge to pee.

“Hey Lila, I really have to go to the bathroom. Do you know where it is?” I asked.

“Yeah its upstairs, the last door down the hallway.” She said.

“Thanx” As I went up the stairs I went to the end of the hallway, but there was two doors facing each other. I guessed and picked the one on the right. I opened the door and saw a messy room and a girl that was snorting a white substance.

“Oh I-I’m sorry, I thought this was the bathroom.” She turned her head and wiped her nose. I froze once I saw her face, but felt my heart drop once I knew what was happening. I looked closer and she had box full of drugs, bottles and more bottles of beer, a hookah next to her bed. I looked back to her and I felt tears escaping my eyes..

“Lynn?” I asked and she looked down.

“The bathroom is on the left side.” She said with her cold raspy monotonous voice. This is not Lynn that I knew, she was happy, full of energy, sweet she was Lynn. Now she’s a cold, fragile, broken Lynn.

“Did you hear me!?” She slightly raised her cold voice.

“Wh- why are you doing this.” I slowly walked towards her while she stared at the wall. I looked at the box again and I felt that pain in my heart come back.

“Why are doing that shit Lynn? You never did drugs! You never smoked!” I raised my voice. She looked up and I saw her red eyes, her eyes told me everything.

“Why the hell do you care, you never cared before why now? Just leave me alone okay.”

“Lynn stop saying that, you knew I always car-” She got up and grabbed a bottle and threw it at me, I ducked down which made the glass bottle shatter.

“Don’t you dare finish that word! You only cared about pleasure right? You choose pleasure over me.. Now that you have your slut to satisfy your needs you don’t need me, you never did. So go live your life and let me live mine.”

“This life your living isn’t living Lynn it’s dieing. Your killing yourself with this shit” My tears kept coming.

“And? Do you think I care. I much rather be dead then be here.” My heart broke after hearing what she said. I shaked my head.

“No don’t say that, Lynn I still love you and I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I never meant what I sa-”

“Babe! Babe where are you!? Just- oh there you are” Lila entered the room and stopped as she looked at Lynn.

Lynn chuckled and shook her head.
“Wow Justin, it shows how sorry you truly are. You still picked pleasure over me.”

“Wait. Is this Lynn, your ex? The ugly bitch you were with?” Lila asked.

“Don’t call her that Lila!” I yelled. She laughed and walked out of the room.

“Get out.” She said sternly.

“No, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Get out Justin!! Leave me alone!! Okay! Just-Just-” She started losing her balance and fell.

“Lynn!? No.. no.. no.. NO! LYNN WAKE UP! HELP!! I NEED HELP!” I yelled. I started sobbing and gripped Lynn’s shirt. People ran in the room and started calling 911.

“Please Lynn wake up..”

Part 5 done✔

The first time he entered my life was as someone else’s boyfriend. He wore glasses and a red plaid scarf, and I remember thinking how he pulled it off so well. He walked away quickly after our introduction though, interested by more interesting people than me.

The second time he entered my life was still as someone else’s boyfriend - but a different someone else this time. They suit each other, I’d thought to myself, without a hint of bitterness. Because yes, he was good-looking, but because of that, he was never to be the boy for me.

The third time he entered my life was by himself. He sent me a message asking me a question about flowers. I love flowers. His mother owns a flower shop, and he knows a lot about them. I don’t know how it started, but we became friends. And then things became strained because of how crazy I can be.

The last time he entered my life, I invited him in. I sent an invitation and he graciously, politely, accepted. I was afraid of the mistakes I’d made in the past but he’d seemed to have forgotten them - almost, until he brought them up on the night he told me he loved me.

We were under the night sky, under the stars that glittered and showered hope to anyone who dared look up long enough. That was our thing. Stars. I thought about what you’d said for a second, because I recognized this pivotal moment as the one that would change everything.

I told him I loved him too.

I haven’t looked back since.

—  this is how i imagined it happening // lily rose.